


Loyalty

by BAdams15



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Character Death, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-25 23:33:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BAdams15/pseuds/BAdams15
Summary: A little drabble I wrote after the end of the game.





	Loyalty

“Well, you can’t keep riding Charles’ horse. Taima needs a break, Arthur.” Hosea said as the pair made their way over to where the horses were tethered. John glanced up from his morning coffee to see Arthur roll his eyes as he swung up on to the appaloosa mare, and stood to wander over.  
“What’re you two getting into this early in the morning?” John asked.  
“Hosea’s got me after some big bear in the mountains, or that’s what we were s’pposed to be doin’. Now he’s on me to buy some new horse to replace m’last one. ‘Cept I don’t want to buy a barn horse. Boadicea would roll over in her grave if she knew I replaced her thatta way.” Arthur ground out, clearly frustrated with Hosea’s nagging. John gave him a sympathetic pat on his knee, knowing all to well how wound up Hosea was likely to get over Arthur getting a new horse.  
“Well, Ol’ Boy is a fine horse, and he came from a stable. Maybe its not as bad as all that.” John reasoned, gesturing toward his Half Hungarian stallion. The horse swung his head and nipped at Javier’s mare before trotting off. John shook his head and turned back to Arthur who looked sullen.  
“I ain’t gettin’ no barn horse. I’ve been plannin’ on ridin’ out to find a new one for a while now, but every damn man, woman, and child in this camp can’t seem to function without my help for a couple a days!” Arthur snapped, yanking on the mare’s reigns to hard. To her credit, Taima only chuffed at the man on her back, and yanked her reigns right back. That seemed to shake the gruff cowboy, and a smile broke across his face as he gave the horse a good natured rub. “See? A barn horse woulda been to polite to call me on my bullshit. Or worse, tossed me right outta the saddle. Taima here gets it.”  
John hummed for a moment and glanced behind him towards the camp. A moment or two of searching gave him the pair he was looking for as he watched Abigail and Jack heading toward the drop off of Horseshoe Overlook. He knew a chance when he heard it to get out of camp, and, if he was being honest, he really wanted to disappear for a couple of days. Abigail was a sweet girl, but he wasn’t a father. Jack needed a father.  
With his mind made up, he turned back to Arthur, who had resumed his argument with Hosea. John cleared his throat, and dusted his hands off on his pants.  
“How about we go out for this horse when you get back? Hell, I’ll come with you on this bear chase and we can leave straight after. You can ride with me on Ol’ Boy, and we can leave Taima here for Charles in case he needs her.”  
“Well, John, that’s a fine idea. Right, Arthur?” Hosea asked, giving Arthur a hard look. Arthur grumbled some, but swung off of Taima and grabbed his gear.  
“I sure hope we don’t have to do any swimmin’.” Arthur loudly called over his shoulder as he stowed everything on Ol’ Boy.  
“Dammit, Morgan! Quit doggin’ me about that!”  
The three men road out of camp hollerin’ and laughing the whole way.  
*********

“Jesus, I thought that bear was gonna eat me!” Arthur wheezed as he rolled away from the steaming carcass. John’s hands were still shaking on his rifle, smoke still rolling out of the barrel from the final shot. He’d thought his heart had dropped out of his ass and made a run for it when Arthur had lost his knife in the struggle. He’d thought he was going to watch a bear rip out the throat of the closest thing he had to a brother, and had swung the gun into his hands and fired until the bear had stopped moving.  
“God damn that hurt!” Arthur barked out. Hosea hurried past John where he was kneeling in the moss, and skidded to a stop by his brother in the dirt. There was a moment that John’s soul threatened to leave his very body, before Hosea hung his shoulders and sighed in relief.  
“You’re gonna live, son. Ya scared the life out of me though!” Hosea shouted as he punched Arthur in the shoulder. Arthur wheezed out a laugh and rolled himself onto his elbows. A bit of blood spattered onto the ground under him, but he managed to stumble his way to standing.  
“You ok, Arthur?” John managed to get out as he stumbled to his own numb feet. Arthur gave him a half smile and a nod, as he began to stumble forward on shakey legs.  
“I’ll be fine. Just need ta get some bandages offa Ol’ Boy, and I’ll be right as rain. Maybe a swig a somethin’ too.”  
“You got the pelt and meat, Hosea?” John asked as he watched Arthur hobble off into the woods in search of the two stallions they’d left grazing in a sunny patch.  
“Yeah, John, just help me load it onto Silver Dollar and you and Arthur can head for the Grizzlies.”  
“Wait, what?” John asked as he was halfway through a nod.  
“Yeah, that’s where Arthur wants to go for his horse. Told me he heard a rumor of some white horse hiding in the snow. It’s why I was after him to get a horse in Valentine. Safer and warmer seemed like a much better idea to me, but he’s got himself convinced that horse in living by Lake Isabella.” Hosea grumbled, making the final cut on the carcass and rolling the pelt up. “Figured he woulda told ya on the ride over, but he musta thought you might not want to head back into the snow after those wolves.”  
“They almost ate me Hosea! I coulda died on that damned mountain!” John snarled, pressing his fist into the tender scarred flesh of his stomach.  
“Yeah, except that Javier and Arthur came for ya, and dragged your sorry carcass home. Arthur wouldn’t put you in that situation again if he didn’t think he couldn’t trust you. He’s not like me and Dutch, who’re likelier than not to get ya eatin’ or worse.” the old man chuckled as he and John took either end of the pelt and carried it after Arthur.  
By the time they caught up to him Arthur was tying off his bandages and uncapping a bottle of brandy. John had even managed to wind himself back down as Arthur handed him the bottle and he took a long drink. By the time the bottle landed in Hosea’s hands, John had even convinced himself that the trip wouldn’t be all that bad after all.  
“You ready to head out?” Arthur asked after they made sure Hosea was good to head for camp. John turned to the north and felt the chill of the snow before he even saw it, but managed a nod. He’d ask for a chance to get away from Abigail and the kid hadn’t he? “Then let’s head out. I don’t wanna lose much more of the light.”  
“Damn, Morgan, even after that bear nearly ripped you to pieces you don’t waste time.”  
“Sure don’t.”  
John swung up into the saddle and reached down to pull Arthur up, and kicked the stallion into an all out run. Trees flew past them, and game disappeared long before the giant stallion tore through. They were both quiet as the sun slowly sank below the horizon, until it was so dark even the moon wasn’t bright enough to light their way. By now they were right at the snow line, and while he could see well enough John pulled his horse to a stop and Arthur didn’t push to continue on. They both eased off the horse and shared the work of taking off his tack and rubbing the tired horse down.  
John pulled some of the bear meat out of his satchel as Arthur got the fire going, and the both ate hunks of the warm, gristly meat. Afterward they passed a bottle of whiskey back and forth until Arthur settled back against his bedroll and lit a cigarette.  
“I gotta say, Marston, this is nice. I thought you’d be spittin’ and cursin’ just as soon as you saw the snow, but here we are and you ain’t said a peep.”  
“Yeah, well...” John grunted, lighting his own cigarette and turning to stare out into the darkness.  
“A’right, what is it? Somethin’s been eatin’ you since yesterday morning when we left.” Arthur drawled, giving the cigarette a lazy flick.  
“It isn’t anything all that bad. I just...Abigail is on me to spend more time with the boy. I ain’t no father, Arthur! I barely knew my own! How am I supposed to be anything more than a burden to that boy?” he snapped, tossing the cigarette into the darkness and angrily lighting a new one. There was a long pause, as John glared into the dark and Arthur watched the fire. Just as John began to think Arthur wasn’t going to say anything at all, the man spoke up.  
“Not knowing your own father ain’t got nothin’ ta do with being a good one to your own boy. My pa was around until I was thirteen, and was worse than any man could be ta me and my mother. Ya get to make your own way, your own memories and ideas with Jack, and Jack’s a good boy. I wish my own had lived ta meet him.”  
John felt the lump form in his throat and swiped his hand over his eyes. He felt a hand clap onto his shoulder and jumped, not having heard Arthur get up and move to his side of the fire. He looked up toward the man with his flinty blue eyes, and dirt streaked face.  
“You gotta be with that boy, and be a good father ta him, or I’ll kill ya.”  
With that, Arthur turned on his heel with a slash of a grin and a laugh. John listened as Arthur bedded down for the night and he settled into think. The wind lashed against his back one good time before the snow began to fall softly. John cursed under his breath as he settled in to his own bedroll close to the fire and closed his eyes against the frigid night.  
**********

Dawn came cold and clear and found John and Arthur grumpily warming their hands over a to small fire as they waited for the percolater to finish the coffee. Ol’ Boy wasn’t much better off, stamping his hooves and pawing at the snow that had dumped onto them overnight.  
“Better be a damn fine horse up here...” John grumbled as he dumped his ration of coffee into his cup. Arthur huffed a laugh, taking the pot and pouring himself a cup. Just like the night before, they chewed through more gristly meat, but with much less gusto.  
“I heard she was pretty as the first powder of the season. Fast as a lightnin’ bolt, and meaner than a rattler’. I’m lookin’ forward ta meetin’ ‘er. I think we’ll get along just fine.” Arthur chuckled. John wished he could be as happy to be out in this icy hellscape, but he couldn’t. And he wasn’t going to waste precious warmth trying to be happy to be out here, so he dragged himself up out of the snow and began to pack up the camp. Arthur only groaned and winced a little as he stood up, and did the same.  
Before long they were saddled up and off at a trot, John being to nervous to get Ol’ Boy going any faster than that as he looked around at the icy passes and waiting snow. Arthur whispered the names of birds and what had made which tracks as they passed. Before long John was pointing out tracks that he knew as well, but it was short lived when he spotted wolf tracks and stopped talking entirely.  
“Don’t worry to much about all that, John. Those are a couple’a days old. They’re long gone by now.” Arthur murmured, giving him a pat on the shoulder. John was a little ashamed to admit that it did make him feel better, and made a noncommital grunt.  
They rode for the next few hours in silence. John spotted a great white buffalo lumber quiet into the leaf bare trees and elbowed Arthur who yanked his journal out of his pack to sketch it. It was one of John’s favorite things about him, this drawing habit he’d picked up. He wished he was half as good as his brother, but settled for looking at the pictures Arthur could conjure out of nothing.  
As the lake came into site, John felt Arthur tense and hook his feet into the stirrups. John obligingly pulled his own feet out and slowed Ol’ Boy to a walk. The only sound he heard was the wind whistling through the mountains, and Arthur’s rough breath in his ear.  
“There.” Arthur whispered, pointing over John’s shoulder. John followed the finger and squinted against the vast sea of white. It took a moment, but he spotted what Arthur had, and swallowed his gasp. There, taking a long drink from a hole in the ice, stood a lean white mare. She really was as white as the first powder of the season.  
“Holy shit...”  
“Yeah...we need to get in behind her. Try to use the land ta our advantage. She’s gettin’ herself a drink now, so my thinkin’s that we sneak along the ridgeline. You get me up there, John,” Arthur murmured, pointing toward the dense pine trees. John nodded and gave Ol’ Boy a gentle nudge forward.  
They began a slow and careful ascent up the hill with Arthur giving instructions on where to guide the stallion to make the least amount of noise. All the while the white mare hardly moved from her spot on the shoreline, content to even settle herself next to the water.  
“Pretty as a picture, ain’t she?” Arthur whispered, catching John staring.  
“She sure is.” he murmured.  
They had gone deep into the pine forest when Arthur slid silently off the back of the horse, and into the snow. He held his finger to his lips, and then slipped his lasso free of his belt and crept down the slope. John watched on as his brother moved in on the white mare on silent feet, and anxiously fiddled with the reigns.  
Just as Arthur reached the edge of the trees the mare turned her head and locked eyes with him. John’s stomach bottomed out as the mare slowly stood and regarded his brother with curious eyes. He heard Arthur talking to the horse, though he wasn’t able to make anything out, the horse didn’t spook. She tossed her head a bit, seeming annoyed to have her peace disturbed, but Arthur made it to her side without the horse taking off. John knew what was coming next, but the scream of the wild mare as Arthur gripped her mane and swung on to her back still made him wince.  
“COME ON JOHN!” came Arthur’s shout a moment later as the mare streaked off across the shore. John kicked Ol’ Boy into a gallop that sent them half sliding down the slope after Arthur and the lighting bolt of a horse. Arthur looked like he was barely holding on as the mare stopped her mad dash and began slamming herself into trees to try to knock him loose.  
For nearly an hour the mare tried everything in her arsenal to shake Arthur loose, but he hung on tight, and in the end, exhausted, the mare bowed her head in acceptance.  
“That was god damn incredible to watch.” John called out as he walked his stallion over. The mare barely lifted her head to acknowledge the other horse, but Ol’ Boy still leaned down to give her a sniff. “I ain’t never doin’ anything like that to get a horse though.”  
“She gave me quite the fight, but you watch. She’s gonna be the most loyal horse you ever saw.” Arthur said, giving the tired mare a gentle pat.

**********

“ARTHUR WE GOTTA GO!” John screamed as bullets whizzed past. He whipped his head back to see Arthur stumbling toward him, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth as another bout of coughing wracked his to thin frame. John lurched toward him and grabbed onto his arm, dragging him along. “WE GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!”  
“I can’t...I just...” Arthur wheezed, doubling over in pain. He managed a weak whistle and John did the same. Snowdrop, Arthur’s arabian mare came tearing around the corner followed by Ol’ Boy a second later. Snowdrop didn’t even stop, and didn’t have to. Arthur had trained her so well over the year he’d had her, that as the mare streaked past she dripped and scooped her rider on to her back. She was off like a lightning bolt with Arthur on her back, and John only a moment behind.  
“Jooooohn...” Arthur called back. John looked up and spotted Dutch and Micah cresting the hill. “We got trouble.”  
John watched as Arthur dropped the reigns and unholstered both of his pistols to open fire on the Pinkertons shooting from the tree line. Ten men dropped before John managed to wrap his reigns around his wrist and unsling his rifle. Another four dropped in quick succession before Dutch and his boys began their onslaught.  
Ol’ Boy took one in the shoulder and screamed, and John had to hang on tight as the horse stumbled hard. John locked eyes with Micah for just a moment and the man grinned as he took aim at Arthur. John screamed as Micah pulled the trigger, but Snowdrop was faster. The mare reared up and took the shot in the chest and picked up speed.  
Time seemed to slow down as the gorgeous mare began to stumble, fighting to keep her balance, to keep moving. She wheeled to the side and John saw the heartbreak and terror plain as day on Arthur’s face as his companion kept running. He knew then that the shot was fatal. That Snowdrop was running to her dying breath, fighting to carry Arthur out of danger even as she died.  
Ol’ Boy took another shot, this one in the leg and he went down. John was flung from the sadle towards Arthur, and struggled to keep himself upright as the world spun. He lost his balance as he skidded in the soft mud, and heard the crash as Snowdrop finally lost the race against time. John shoved himself up and could only spare a tear filled look back at Ol’ Boy who lay dying in the mud twenty feet behind him before he had to shove himself forward. He stumbled toward Arthur who was curled over Snowdrop as she heaved her last breaths.  
“Arthur, come on! We have to go!”  
“No! Come on girl, we gotta go. We gotta go now, you gotta get up girl.” Arthur whispered against her flank. The mare heaved her head off of the ground, and gave a pained whinny before she collapsed again. “No...”  
“She’s...she’s a goner, Arthur. Shit, I’m sorry, but...” John tried, keeping his eyes on the forested cliffs behind them. “We gotta get outta here.”  
“Go, John.” Arthur whispered, “You gotta live. I...I’m staying here.”  
John swallowed the painful lump in his throat and turned to Arthur. He watched the man press one hand to his chest and his other hand to Snowdrop’s forehead and take a shaking breath. He knew what Arthur was saying. He knew Arthur wasn’t long for the world, but he still couldn’t stop himself from trying.  
“Come with me, Arthur. Please.” He watched as Arthur turned toward him with a broken smile, so different from the one he'd seen months ago on the mountain and felt the ground drop out from under him. Arthur took the few steps toward him, and took off his hat. He looked down at it for a moment and nodded before planting it firmly on John's head.  
“Go live, John.”


End file.
